


Two in the Morning

by colorofmercury



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Clothed Sex, Frottage, M/M, Muteness, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmercury/pseuds/colorofmercury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's been grounded after he and Dave got involved in some fisticuffs, so visits are restricted to the late-night and sneaky variety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay so uh. This is the first porn I've ever posted and I'm a little nervous. I also wrote a bunch of kinks that i'VE NEVER WRITTEN BEFORE WHERE DID THESE COME FROM so I guess let me know if they work or not. I have no idea! 
> 
> Also Dave is mute, in this one, if that is a thing you don't particularly like. Check the tags for the other things, I think they more or less cover everything. 
> 
> I started writing this because I wanted to write a Dave/John thing for a friend on Valentine's Day, but then it... turned into this? And I have no idea if half of these kinks are even things she likes but I WROTE PORN LIKE YOU ASKED ME TO AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME... 
> 
> Okay I think I covered everything I am so nervous about posting this wow. Uh critique is welcome, since I really don't write this stuff often and I'm not sure what's working and what's not. So let me know!

TG: hey im here

The ping in your headphones startles you out of your doze, and you rub the sleep from your eyes. 

EB: oh ey dave i’lk be down ain a mingute aoky  
TG: jfc how drunk are you  
EB: haha i’m jjst really tired okay?   
TG: youre going to make a lot of noise getting down the stairs if youre stumbling all over the place  
TG: maybe i should just climb up to the window again  
EB: nonononononono  
EB: dad growned me for liek an extra two weeks when he foudn your footprints on he wall   
TG: … growned  
EB: grounded! you kkwno what i mean   
EB: don’t meak fun of me it’s like 2am  
EB: i’ll be diwn in a bit try tob e quiet  
TG: …   
TG: are you seriously asking me not to talk  
EB: i mena odn’t stomp around, you doofus. i know you’ ernaot going to talk   
TG: alright whatevs get your tired ass down here   
EB: be rrgiht there! 

You press your hands into your eyelids and shake your head. You wish Dave could have come over earlier, because you are so not used to staying up late, but this is pretty much all you two can manage at the moment. You love your dad and everything, but he is seriously making it difficult to maintain your relationship. He is such a stickler about the weirdest things. Just because Dave punched some _other_ guy doesn’t mean he’s going to start a fight with _you_. Dad should also know better than to think you’ve suddenly got a taste for blood and lock you in the house just because you cracked someone’s ribs. 

I mean, jeez, it’s not like you did it for _fun_. It was self-defense. Mostly. 

Cautiously, you ease out of your chair and towards your door. You turn the handle before opening--always a good measure to take--and glance down the hallway. There is no faint light under the door, so you head out. You stop at the top of the stairs and press your ear to the wall, and after a moment you can hear your dad breathing in that heavy, not-quite-snoring way that he only does when he is totally out cold: you know when he’s breathing like that the only way to wake him up is to throw his pipe at his head and yell at him that you’re going to be late for your recital. And repeat for ten minutes until he actually shows signs of waking. 

Still, he could be faking, so as you’re heading down the stairs, you’re still quiet: walking with one foot on each edge and putting as much of your weight on the banister and wall as you can. 

The going is easier on the ground floor, and you go through the kitchen and into the laundry room to open a window for Dave-- because the back door creaks when you open it, and if you try to fix it now Dad will suspect something. 

You crawl up onto the washing machine and stick your head out the window. He’s turned the other way. You poke him in the shoulder. He startles and almost hits his head on the wall, and you have to try not to snort too loudly. You wave him in and he glares at you, climbing in with your help. 

He starts to text you a message, and you hush him and put your hands over his phone frantically. “My phone’s upstairs and I forgot to turn it down,” you whisper. “Just show me the screen.” He nods a little and finishes, turning the phone around. 

how much time do i have

“Dad’s passed out. Shoes,” you remind him, and he slips them off and carries them as you start heading back to your room. “And… I think he stayed up late to make sure I wouldn’t sneak out again. And no work tomorrow. I think.” Your words are slurring a little, but you think it’s mostly because you’re mumbling. 

He starts texting again and you stop to look over his shoulder. 

so four hours maybe

You pause to do the math. “… Yeah.” You start heading up the stairs in that awkward manner you’ve desinged, and he follows. “I mean--hold on.” You wait until you’re both up the stairs and in your room before you continue. “I mean he probably won’t get up until seven, but I don’t want to push my luck.” 

The heat is still on in your room, as opposed to the rest of the house, and it hits you again just how tired you are. You only took about a two-hour nap before waking yourself up to wait for Dave. 

shit man are you sure you dont just want to nap or something you look totally out of it

You don’t notice the text until he shoves the phone in your face. “Wh--sorry. No, if we fall asleep he’ll catch you here, and then we’re both fucked.” 

He rolls his eyes and types a final “whatever you say bro” before pocketing his phone and wrapping his arms around you. You pull him in close, grateful to have him here. His head falls to your shoulder and you tuck your face into his hair, sighing through your nose. 

You love the way he smells. 

“It’s been a long couple of weeks,” you whisper to him, and he nods. Quickly stolen kisses in a mostly-abandoned locker room are a seriously poor substitute for getting to spend time with him almost every day. After Dad got you in more trouble for Dave sneaking in a while ago, the two of you hadn’t really had a chance to see each other. Well, until you tried to get out the other day. Dad caught up to you at about the bowling alley and carried you six blocks over his shoulder before you finally gave in and walked with him. 

He’s kind of annoying like that. 

You realize you’ve sort of half fallen asleep when Dave squeezes you and pulls, backing up towards the bed. It’s a clumsy landing, and you end up awkwardly sprawled over him and stifling your giggles in his neck. He snorts at you and shifts the two of you around until you’re side by side. 

You’re still sort of laughing when you’re settled, so he uses his most effective method of shutting you up (with a 96% rate of success): grabbing you and kissing you hard enough to make you forget about anything else. 

You like to think this technique works because he is temporarily transferring his muteness to you through mouth contact. 

When you told him that a few months ago he hit you and ignored you for ten minutes until you sat on his lap and kissed apologies onto his lips. 

At this point, though, you know better than to start laughing again and telling him how funny it was. Starting a story with “remember that time you hit me” is a good way to get yourself hit again. 

Besides, he’s got his hands wrapped up in your hair and he just licked your bottom lip and if you weren’t worried you were going to fall asleep at any moment you would pretty much be in heaven. 

There are a few times you zone out and realize you’ve stopped moving, and he has to nudge you a little to get you to kiss him again. You start digging your nails into his back to give yourself something to focus on. You might have apologized, but he lets out this harsh little breath that doesn’t sound completely displeased, and it makes you change your mind.

He kisses you harder, slips one hand down to your back to pull you closer, and grips your hair hard enough to hurt. The pain makes you wince and whine at him, and he lets up just enough to make it feel good again. 

When he moves down to kiss your neck you kind of lose track of time, and suddenly he’s more on top of you than beside you and he’s unbuckling his pants and it seems really loud. He pulls them off and starts grabbing at the waistband of your pajamas. You kind of wriggle around until you remember how to lift your hips. He scoffs at you, and pulls one of your eyelids open until you shake him off and blink enough to wake yourself up a little. He shakes his head and kisses you and you tell him he’s a jerk, and he nips at your jaw and moves his hands down your sides and his nose down your stomach until he’s at your crotch and licking you through your boxers and _oh_

wow. 

You may have… made a louder noise than you thought just now. Actually you’re pretty positive you did, because Dave’s hand is now clamped over your mouth, and he’s looking at you with this wide-eyed horror that is totally uncalled for in this situation. The look changes into something that says “keep it _down_ , are you completely incapable of shutting up, you dipshit,” and you lick his hand. He pulls it away, glaring, and licks your dick again, and you bite your tongue inside your mouth to keep from making noise. 

He stays down there for a while, and you’re honestly not really sure what he’s doing, but it feels _awesome_ , and you think you might accidentally make another noise when he stops. He laughs, that quiet breathy thing, and crawls back up over you. You consider leaning up to kiss him, because you kind of want to, but you can’t really summon the energy. It doesn’t matter much, because he moves to kiss you instead, and it’s sloppy and makes both of you laugh because you kind of just got spit everywhere, but he moves his hips and you forget that you were smiling again. 

This probably shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. Most people like actually getting naked, and, yeah, you really like that too, but there’s something about the way fabric feels between you when he’s grinding on you like this, and the way he _looks_ when you can see how hard he is through his boxers, and he’s giving you one of those Shut Up Kisses again so you were probably making noise again. You don’t really blame you, because holy _shit_ this is the best thing right now. 

Your hands feel heavy but you manage to drag them up to his hips, and when they rest just above his pelvis with your fingertips in the small of his back, you can feel the way he rocks on you. He must be a lot more awake than you are because he’s moving his body in a way that tires you out just thinking about it, but he just keeps going. He slides his tongue in your mouth and you jolt a little, because you forgot you had a mouth, but you kiss him back. His hips keep rocking on you, and his spine is curving out and in with every movement and you wish you could keep your eyes open long enough to watch his shoulders, too, because you know they’ll be gorgeous when he’s holding himself up and moving the way he is. _God_ it feels amazing. Every push of his hips shoves your underwear further up around your hips and you can’t decide if that’s better than the bits of his skin that you can feel higher on your thighs or not. It’s… a word that you can’t think of, and you spend too long trying to remember it before the sound of his breathing brings you back to reality. 

You force your eyes open, because you need to see him like this, when he’s falling apart like a house of cards, but one that’s grinding on you--that was weird, why did you think of that--and his eyebrows are all scrunched together like he’s mad or he’s concentrating and his eyes are shut like he’s having as much trouble keeping them open as you are, and his mouth is as wide open as you imagine it would be if he could sing for you. You don’t wish him any other way, though, because he’s perfect, and he’d also probably never shut up if he could talk, and the way he sounds when he’s like this, breathless and just short of frantic and shaking and _sexy_ , shit, he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen… 

You let yourself groan, because you want him to hear it, and he shudders on top of you. It’s taken you this long to notice his movements aren’t as smooth anymore--they’re rough and jerky and intense and you are coming out of your _skin_ and you think you’re digging your nails into his back again because he’s not moving the same way, and when you look up at him again you see your name on his lips and you’re gone. 

You’re gone, nothing can bring you back, you’re flying off into space, probably, because you can’t breathe, and you’re biting your lip hard enough to hurt just to keep from screaming. 

And then there’s… nothing, really. A long moment of nothing except this sort of floating feeling, like you were one of those helicopter seeds spinning down after being thrown, but in slow motion. Maybe it’s more like a feather. 

Dave collapses on you and you realize you don’t actually care whether or not you’re a seed or a feather. You realize you kind of forgot to breathe, and you take in this breath that’s shuddering and probably too loud. Dave breathes in at the same time, and he also seems to have trouble with it, and you wrap your arms around him slowly. 

“… I’m a mess,” you tell him, and you’re slurring again, but you don’t really care. He laughs and shifts his head, probably to look down, because next he sort of shrugs like he’d rather have the two of you be a mess than anything. 

You smile and run a hand through his hair. 

You feel him smile back. 

A moment later you have to shake your head to clear your thoughts, and remind yourself you are not sleeping in a military camp in ancient China, where did that even come from, and it’s not snowing, you’re just cold because you’re not wearing pants anymore. 

It takes a lot of maneuvering, but you manage to get at least a sheet over the two of you--you know it’s going to get too hot if you put more blankets on--and when Dave gives you a look you tell him, “Just for a minute, okay?” 

Because he’s wide awake. If you fall asleep he can still leave before six or seven, easily, but you really want to lie down together for a while. 

Your breathing is pretty much back to normal after a few minutes (has it been a few minutes?) and you realize you’re not actually getting any less tired. 

“I love you.” The words were kind of mumbled, but you know he heard you. He signs against your chest, the only gesture you remember without fail. You take his hand and kiss it, because it seems like the thing to do, and you fall asleep with your hand on his. 

\--

At eight in the morning, when Mr. Egbert has already knocked on his son’s door and gotten no response, he peeks in. He doesn’t get the chance to ask if John is awake: there’s an extra body there that makes him change his mind. He sighs, shakes his head, smiles, and quietly closes the door.


End file.
